To Build a Home
by bananannabeth
Summary: Percy Jackson is the worst neighbour Annabeth Chase has ever had. Loud music, lots of friends, skateboarding in the hall - he's everything she doesn't want. So why can she not imagine home without him? / This fic is pure heartbreaking angst.
1. Chapter 1

**a.n.** you can find a lot of discussion about this fic and some _beautiful_ companion graphics made by readers at my tumblr: **bananannabeth**. title comes from the song To Build a Home by Cinematic Orchestra.

* * *

The first time they sort of met it was the middle of a cool August night and they were both half naked. Annabeth had gotten to bed at a decent hour for the first time in months, having just finished a major project at work, only to be rudely awoken at 2am by the building's fire alarm.

Half asleep and wholly pissed off, she'd filed down the stairs with the rest of her floor to gather on the cold pavement while the firefighters checked for danger. No flames were visible leaping out of windows, which just made Annabeth angrier, because it meant she'd gotten out of bed when there wasn't even any real danger. Her first thought was that it was the Stoll brothers, having another out of control party on the 11th floor, but there weren't enough people crowded on the sidewalk to warrant that. Some idiot had probably burned microwave popcorn or something.

She folded her arms over her chest and huffed, trying to ignore the admiring looks her neighbours were giving her bare legs. She was staring longingly up at her apartment window when she heard it - a loud peal of laughter, followed by an even louder, " _Shush!"_

Annabeth turned to see a guy about her age, lean and tan and toned, with messy dark hair and an angular jaw covered in stubble. He was shirtless, broad swimmer's shoulders and toned muscles on full display. Their eyes locked over the head of the short girl he was trying to hush, and Annabeth's stomach jolted. He was gorgeous.

And he was almost certainly the one who'd set off the fire alarm.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he smiled bashfully.

The girl he was with was still talking, voice high and wavering. She sounded like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I'm so sorry, but you should have told me I had to take the foil off before putting it in the microwave-"

The other guy they were with put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm not blaming you, Hazel. I just honestly expected you to know that foil can't be microwaved."

"Frank," the gorgeous guy said, a bit quieter. His eyes were still on Annabeth. "I have to live with these people. Please stop announcing our guilt."

His friends followed his gaze, and immediately fell silent. Annabeth intensified her glare. The other two turned away, but the handsome guy didn't falter. He continued looking sheepish, but he didn't look away. She pressed her lips into a thin white line, which just made him smile wider.

He raised one hand in a small wave and said, "What a nuisance, hey?"

Annabeth refused to smile back. Her exhaustion was making her grumpier than normal, because she was just so tired and was it really too much to ask for just one night of solid sleep? The fact that the source of her annoyance was so irritatingly good looking just added to her ire. No one had the right to look that good at two in the morning.

"Yeah, it is," she said scathingly.

His expression dropped for the first time. A little crease appeared between his eyebrows, which did nothing to diminish his handsomeness. He opened his mouth to respond, but a firefighter gave the all clear before he got the chance.

Annabeth turned on her heel and stomped through the crowd filing into the building, marching up the stairs without a glance back at her annoyingly hot neighbour and his friends.

* * *

When they properly met, the circumstances weren't much better.

Annabeth had a routine: wake up at 5.15, go for a run at 5.30, leave for work at 8.15, get home from work at 6.15, go to bed at 10.30.

It was a good routine. She functioned better when she had a schedule to hold herself accountable to. _Some people,_ it seemed, ran to an entirely different schedule, and hot neighbour was one of them.

The first time he threw her off it was a Saturday morning. She was on her way out, and he was curled up at the top of the stairs, drooling all over the carpet. His face was relaxed and surprisingly peaceful for someone who was sleeping on a floor that looked like it hadn't been vacuumed since the early 90s.

Annabeth stopped and stared. She considered leaving him there, but then he made this pathetic little mewling sound and she couldn't do it. She gently prodded him with the toe of her shoe.

"Hey," she said at normal volume, praying he wasn't a heavy sleeper. "Hey, wake up."

He stirred but didn't wake. She kicked him harder.

"Get up!"

He sat bolt upright, hair pressed flat on one side and sticking up wildly on the other, eyes comically wide and bloodshot. It took him a second to focus on her face, but when he did he smiled.

"Hey!" he greeted, pointing at her. "It's you!"

"I don't know you," Annabeth said, immediately and immensely regretting her decision to wake him.

"Yeah you do," he said, awkwardly getting to his feet with one dead leg. He stumbled back a step and she reached out, grabbing his arm and holding him steady. He looked down at her hand on his arm and then back to her face. "You were really angry the night Hazel blew up my microwave and we all got evacuated. Remember?"

Annabeth scowled and let him go, hoping he wasn't going to fall down the stairs. "Yeah, I remember."

"See, you do know me!"

She pushed her ponytail off her shoulder and turned to the hallway. "Which apartment's yours?"

The guy frowned and patted his pockets. "I'm, uh, I'm in 3." He glanced up at her, but looked away as soon as their eyes met. "But I've locked myself out. Hence the… emergency accommodation."

Annabeth sighed. Mr. D, the building manager, wouldn't be awake until midday. She was tempted to say sorry and keep on going, but hot neighbour was looking so sad and sorry for himself that she caved. (She was well rested this time, you see.)

"I'm in 6," she began, and hot neighbour's whole face lit up at once. "We have no hope of waking Mr. D before lunch, so do you want to stay with me until then?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't -" he began to protest.

Annabeth raised one eyebrow. "What are you going to do, sit in the hall for six hours?"

He deflated. "Uh. Well, I mean, I don't want to inconvenience you…"

"Too late for that," she muttered, walking back to her apartment. When he didn't immediately follow she waved over her shoulder. "Well? Come on."

Hot neighbour followed her inside, unabashedly staring at her minimalist furnishings - and the stacks of paper and books covering every surface.

"I'm Percy, by the way," he said as she shut the door behind him.

"Annabeth," she replied, leading him into the kitchen. "Coffee?"

Percy smiled. "Please."

He slid onto a stool at her breakfast bar and watched her pour two cups. The feeling of his eyes on her back made Annabeth's hands shake. Beneath the goofy smile there was something brooding and serious about him; out of the corner of her eye she noticed how his entire expression smoothed and calmed into an intimidating stare whenever he thought she wasn't looking.

"So," Percy said after an awkward silence. "Have you ever locked yourself out of this place?"

Annabeth allowed him the smallest of smiles. "No."

"Oh. Well, I feel even stupider." He took a big gulp of his drink. She noticed that he hadn't met her eye since admitting he'd lost his keys.

She leaned back against the counter and surveyed him over the rim of her cup. When he felt her gaze he finally locked eyes with her, flashing a crooked smile. Annabeth's stomach flipped. She gripped her cup tighter.

"Big night last night?" she blurted, because she didn't know how long she could stand sitting there in awkward silence.

That little crease between his eyebrows reappeared. He frowned down at his coffee. "Uh, yeah. You could say that." There was a weighted pause, and then he said, "Sorry about interrupting your morning."

"It's fine," she said, even as she mentally rescheduled her entire day around this interruption.

"So you're the one who wakes me up most mornings, huh?" Percy said playfully.

Annabeth blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I hear you at, like, 6.45 most mornings, running up the stairs."

She pursed her lips and decided that she wasn't going to apologise for staying fit. "Oh."

"It's okay, no need to apologise," Percy said, so breezily that she couldn't quite tell if he was being serious or making fun of her. "I usually just go back to sleep."

"Do you sleep in often?"

"Sleeping in is one of life's greatest pleasures, so yeah, I do it when I can," he said. His smile slipped a bit, the corners of his lips almost turning down into a frown, but he quickly caught it. Before Annabeth could comment, he was grinning again. "Hey, I'm really sorry to push my luck, but you don't happen to have an apple or something on hand, do you?" His stomach audibly grumbled, illustrating his point.

Annabeth had already skipped her morning run, and now that she'd invited Percy inside she couldn't go anywhere for a while. She figured that she was due for a cheat day anyway, so she opened the fridge. "Eggs and bacon okay?"

Percy beamed. "You are an excellent host, Annabeth. I might have to lock myself out more often."

She kept her back to him, hiding the blush that warmed her cheeks. "Don't push your luck."

* * *

Percy pushed his luck. He was, quite possibly, the most annoying neighbor she'd ever had.

He listened to bad punk music at all hours of the night. Whenever he had friends over their goodbyes went _on and on_ , so Annabeth was forced to listen to them talking in the hall, ignoring the repeated ding of the elevator. On rainy days he liked to skateboard up and down the hallway, and if Annabeth didn't have such good reflexes he would have run into her many times. Sometimes she heard strange noises coming from his apartment, like he was running laps on the hardwood floor, but whenever she confronted him about it he denied any knowledge. He had a bad habit of letting his door slam shut rather than closing it gently. _Three times_ he just left his trash outside his door, like he'd been meaning to take it down and gotten distracted on the way, so he'd just left it to stink out the entire hall.

Despite his promises that none of these things would happen again, and no matter how angrily Annabeth pounded on his door to yell at him about them, they always did.

What made the situation even worse was the fact that Percy seemed to think they were friends, not rivals. After that morning when she cooked him breakfast, he kept appearing in Annabeth's path, so often that she was sure it couldn't be coincidence.

More than once he 'just happened' to be getting home when she was struggling up the stairs with her groceries, and he was always more than happy to help her carry them. He offered to help her unpack them, too, but she always refused.

He was undeterred.

He constantly bumped into her in the hallway (thankfully without his skateboard, most of the time). He ran into her at the cafe on the corner and insisted on shouting her breakfast to repay the favour. After a particularly stressful day at work, Annabeth had come home crying, and after witnessing her almost break down as she struggled to unlock her door he'd brought over a batch of freshly baked blue cookies.

A few months after the night the fire alarm went off, Percy invited Annabeth to go to the Stoll's party with him.

She'd refused every one of his advances so far, but spending so much time with him (even if it was against her will) had made her realise how sweet he could be. And Annabeth was undeniably attracted to Percy, despite how annoying he was.

So when he looked at her with those wide, sea green eyes, pleading like a little puppy, she caved.

He was meant to collect her from her apartment at 6, but, as usual, he was late. So Annabeth took the initiative and knocked on his door at 6.10. The thumping of heavy footsteps came running towards her, followed by a panicked shout of, "No! I mean, wait, I'm coming, sorry, I'll be right there!"

There was the sound of a brief scuffle and then Percy opened the door. He was wearing dark jeans and a blue t-shirt that made his eyes look even brighter than usual. Annabeth tried not to get distracted by the memory of what he looked like shirtless.

"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry I'm late, I just -"

A bark echoed from inside his apartment and all of the colour drained from Percy's face.

Annabeth gaped. "Was that -?"

He gripped her wrist and pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Please don't say anything," he said desperately. "I know we're not meant to have pets but she has nowhere else to go right now. I'm working on it though, I'm going to find a better home but I can't just abandon her -"

As he spoke, a big, black dog bounded around the corner and charged at Annabeth.

"Mrs O'Leary, no!" Percy yelled.

He didn't have anything to worry about though. Annabeth was able to brace herself before the dog hit her, so she only stumbled back one step. The dog yapped happily and sniffed her thoroughly, tail wagging.

"Hello," Annabeth cooed, scratching behind its ears. "You're an awfully big dog to be living in a tiny little flat, aren't you?"

She shot Percy a look over the dog's head. He shrugged helplessly.

"Mrs O'Leary belonged to an acquaintance of mine, but he - he can't take care of her anymore. I haven't been able to find anywhere else for her to go. Please, Annabeth -"

"I'm not going to tell on you," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not heartless."

He was genuinely surprised. "You're not? Oh. Yeah, of course you're not!"

"Thanks," she muttered, continuing to shower the dog with affection. "But it's not good for her to stay cooped up in here."

"I know," Percy said sadly. "I've been trying to sneak her out for walks at night, but I think Mr D's getting suspicious."

"I'll help cover for you," Annabeth said instantly.

When he didn't respond, she looked up at him. Mrs O'Leary licked her hand, trying to get her attention again, but Annabeth remained focused on Percy.

"Why?" he asked quietly. He sounded confused.

Annabeth smiled. "I have a soft spot for dogs," she explained. She tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "And you're my friend, even though you're an annoying neighbor. Any more stupid questions?"

* * *

Annabeth really liked Mrs O'Leary, and Mrs O'Leary really liked her, so they started spending a lot of time together.

At first it was just the occasional night. Annabeth would pop over after dinner, and Percy would use his new microwave to make popcorn to have while they watched tv. Annabeth curled her legs up underneath her on his little couch, and he sat politely beside her and let her pick the channel. Mrs O'Leary snuggled up on their laps and snored peacefully.

As they got more comfortable around each other they became more tactile. Percy would tuck his feet up against hers on the couch. He'd grab her arm when he had an exciting story to tell. She'd rest her head on his shoulder when she got too tired to sit up properly but didn't want to leave yet. She'd pull him into a hug whenever she said goodbye and headed back to her own quiet apartment, which somehow seemed so much less homely these days.

Without even really talking about it, Annabeth and Percy fell into a comfortable routine, and she was soon spending more time in Apartment 3 than Apartment 6.

When Annabeth got home from work she'd dump her bag inside her door, quickly get changed and then head straight over to Percy's. They took it in turns cooking dinner and feeding Mrs O'Leary, until one night when they realised they were out of both people food and dog food. Promising Mrs O'Leary that they'd be right back, they went grocery shopping together. And they just kind of… never stopped.

It was nice, spending so much time together. It was confusing, because this was definitely not how people acted when they were 'just friends', and Annabeth's physical attraction to Percy only seemed to increase as she got to know him better. More than once she fell asleep on his couch and woke up cocooned in his arms, but neither of them ever brought it up the next morning. Despite his eagerness to become her friend Percy seemed reluctant to take their relationship any further than this strange half-way point.

A few weeks later, Annabeth found out why.

They were carrying their groceries up the stairs when Percy stumbled. He dropped one of the bags he'd been carrying, spilling apples across the floor, and sank to his knees. He was shaking, and she heard him swear under his breath. Annabeth stopped mid-step and reached out to him.

"Percy? Are you all right?" Even as she asked, she knew the answer. She didn't know how, but she just _knew_.

Memories flashed through her mind. Percy stumbling on a dead leg when she'd kicked him awake in the hallway. Percy wincing when he went from sitting to standing or vice versa. Percy leaving his trash outside his door, like he hadn't been able to carry it anymore. Percy walking stiffly, rubbing his back when he thought she couldn't see. Percy's energy levels dropping over the last couple of weeks.

She thought he'd just been pushing himself too hard at work. She was wrong.

When he looked up at her she saw that his face was completely drained of colour. Her stomach sank.

Still, she waited for him to crack a joke, to brush it off, to make a comment about how he was so clumsy, falling over was just a thing that happened sometimes and it was nothing to worry about.

Instead, he said, "I'm sorry, Annabeth, I really am."

"What are you sorry for?" Her voice came out choked.

Percy's eyes were watering. "I should have told you earlier, but I -"

"Not here," she blurted suddenly, because she knew what he was going to say and she didn't want to do this here, halfway up the stairs and with bruised apples around their feet. "Let's get back to yours, and then we can talk."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't say anything as she helped him get back to his feet and supported him up the steps. She reached into his back pocket and got out his keys, led him inside and helped him onto the couch. She went back out and collected their groceries, brought them in and put them all away. She hated the thought of Percy lying alone in the next room, stressing, but she needed time to prepare herself.

So it was only once everything was cleared away that she took a deep breath and stepped into the lounge. At first she thought Percy was sleeping, but he opened his eyes as soon as she entered. He sat up, wincing at the movement, and her heart panged.

"Annabeth, I-"

"What is it?"

He stared at her. She bit her lip and blinked away tears. He didn't answer, at first, and she would have repeated herself if her throat hadn't felt like it had closed over.

"Cancer," he finally said. He didn't look away from her, holding her gaze like he had the first night they'd ever met. She'd expected this, but hearing him say it aloud felt like he was shooting an arrow into her heart. "I got it when I was 12, and I was officially in remission by the time I was 16, but it's - it's come back."

Annabeth felt like she was the one whose body was betraying itself. She suddenly hurt everywhere and she felt nauseous. "Where? Your back?"

"Spine," he said simply, like he'd had this conversation a hundred times before. "The base of my spine."

Annabeth tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "When did you find out?"

Percy closed his eyes, like he was scared to see her reaction to his answer. "A few months ago…. that night you found me sleeping in the hall."

Oh. Annabeth nodded stiffly, keeping her chin held high. She took a deep breath in through her nose, counted to 10 and exhaled. "Okay," she said.

Percy regarded her warily. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay, I'm fine, _I'm_ not the one who's -" She caught herself at the last second, clapping a hand over her mouth and staring at him, mortified.

"Dying," he said, and for the first time he sounded bitter. "I'm dying, Annabeth, and I should have told you but I didn't want to ruin our friendship and -"

She wanted to punch him for his ignorance. Instead, she crossed the room in two swift strides, dropped to her knees beside the couch, and kissed him.

His lips were soft and pliable beneath hers, and when she leaned forward, pressing her torso against his, he wound his hands into her hair. He pulled her closer, kissed her harder, like he was scared she was going to run away if he let any space come between them. When he started trying to pull her up on to the couch, she pushed back.

"Be careful," she breathed. After just witnessing him struggle to get into his own apartment, she wasn't eager to hurt him.

His hands went slack on her shoulders and he opened his eyes. "Annabeth," he said, breath warm against her lips. "Please don't start treating me differently."

"Does that mean you don't want me to kiss you again?" she teased, trying to get him to smile again.

The corners of his lips quirked up. "No, that kind of different is okay. It's more than okay, actually. It's awesome."

"Awesome?" Annabeth asked, ducking her head down to kiss along his jaw.

"Awesome. Brilliant. Amazing. Incredible. Resplendent. Awesome," he said, twirling her curls through his fingers.

Annabeth smiled against his pulse. It was beating strong and sure, a comforting rhythm, _alive, alive, alive_.

"Awesome."

* * *

It hurt to talk about, but Annabeth needed facts. If she was ever going to make sense of this she needed as much information as possible.

So she asked Percy countless questions, about his diagnosis, his symptoms, his medications, his plans in case of emergencies. She went to every doctor's appointment, with GPs and specialists, and asked them the same questions.

She researched and researched and researched, but everything she learned all pointed to the same word: _terminal._

"You can't change it, Annabeth," Percy always said.

She shook her head. "You're not getting away from me that easily."

* * *

Percy didn't have another bad day for a long time - long enough to lull Annabeth into a false sense of security. It was too easy for her to fall back into the routine of working, playing with Mrs O'Leary, cooking dinner with Percy and falling asleep in his arms.

When Percy had her pinned against the bed (or the couch, or the wall), mouth searing against her skin, hands burning wherever they touched, unravelling the very fibres of her being and building her back up from scratch, over and over, Annabeth forgot about his fragility. Her entire consciousness focused into one singular point, the sensation of him between her thighs, and the only fragile thing was how precariously she was poised on the edge of bliss. In those moments, where Percy was the only thing tethering her to the rest of the world, Annabeth thought she'd never felt something stronger than this in her entire life.

She slept at his place most nights, and transferred some clothes and toiletries across the hall so she didn't need to go back to Apartment 6 so often. She met his friends, Grover and Charles and Frank and Hazel (who seemed so much nicer when they weren't blowing up microwaves and setting off fire alarms). She met his mom and stepdad, who were quite possibly the sweetest people in the world.

She'd been so nervous about meeting Sally, but the woman had pulled her into a hug and exclaimed how excited she was to finally meet the famous Annabeth Chase, who Percy just couldn't stop talking about.

" _Mom_ ," he whined, rolling his eyes like an embarrassed teen.

But his smile was genuinely happy, and Annabeth could tell from a glance how much he loved his family.

Sally cooked them a delicious dinner and later, as Percy and Paul did the washing up, she thanked Annabeth.

"What for?" she asked. "I should be thanking you, for having me to dinner."

"For how you are with Percy," Sally said. She was smiling, but her eyes were sad. "It can't be easy for you, but I know he really appreciates it. We really appreciate it, too."

Annabeth didn't know what to say. She looked at this woman, this mother whose only son was dying, and she started to properly comprehend what she'd gotten herself into.

"Of course," she finally said. "What else could I do? I love him."

Sally's smile broke her heart.

* * *

It was just a collection of little things, at first. Annabeth noticed them all, of course, but she refused to properly acknowledge them, because if she gathered them all together she knew what they would tell her, and she refused to hear it.

Percy stumbled a lot. He needed to rest more often. He winced when she gently pushed him onto the bed. They had to up the doses of his painkillers.

He had to stop skateboarding, which broke his heart. When she'd look back on it later, Annabeth would remember the day he put his board away for good as the day he started to lose the fight.

There were no more late night parties with Hazel and Frank. Percy just didn't have the energy for it anymore. They came over anyway, and stayed up talking to Annabeth long after Percy had gone to bed. Gradually they transitioned from being his friends to being her friends, too, and Annabeth was so grateful for them that she wanted to weep.

But it was the day Percy told her he wouldn't be able to come on their usual walk with Mrs O'Leary that Annabeth knew it was truly the beginning of the end. She saw the pain in his eyes, but he was trying so hard to sound casual, so she went along with the charade.

"That's okay, you can cook us dinner while we're gone," she said lightly, half joking.

She planted a kiss on his cheek and prayed that Mrs O'Leary would be too excited by the walk to be sad that Percy wasn't coming, because the last thing he needed was to be guilt tripped by the dog.

Once they'd stepped outside, Annabeth heard Percy swear from out in the hall. She couldn't stop crying the entire walk.

When she got back a little later than normal Percy didn't comment on her red eyes, and Annabeth didn't comment on the lack of dinner on the stove, or the smashed glass in the trash.

* * *

Their friends were really great. They checked in constantly, made food, helped Annabeth run errands. And they were great sounding boards for the dark days when Percy got frustrated with himself and took it out on her. Because she knew it wasn't personal, and he wasn't actually mad at her, but it was hard to remember that at 2am when he was shouting because he was in so much pain he couldn't even lie the hell down or stand the hell up and _what was the point of living if he couldn't do a goddamn thing for himself?_

 _Me,_ Annabeth wanted to say. _Live for me._

But she just gave him more painkillers and held him until he cried himself to sleep.

Sally helped out a lot, too. When she heard that Annabeth was considering quitting her job to better care for Percy, she immediately vetoed the idea.

"You need to keep something for yourself," Sally insisted.

She didn't need to give a reason - Annabeth heard the rest of the sentence hanging in the air between them, unsaid but still far too loud. " _You need something to go back to when he's gone_."

So Annabeth kept working, and Sally helped with cooking and cleaning and caring for Percy, who was growing sicker and more stubborn with every passing day.

Sometimes Annabeth felt like this was too hard. She tried to regret the day she'd seen Percy for the first time. She wanted to curse herself for waking him up, for taking him in, for loving him. She wanted to curse him for loving her back. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Because even though he was sick, Percy was still Percy, and staying together was the only thing that mattered.

Every night when she walked through the door of Apartment 3 he smiled his crooked, troublemaker smile and pulled her into a kiss so passionate she could forget about the rest of the world. Every night he looked at her like it had been months since he'd seen her, not hours, and every night she fell a little bit more in love with him.

And sometimes they had really good days, and it all seemed worth it. Percy had bursts of energy, and they'd go for picnics in the park down the road. Mrs O'Leary rolled in the long green grass, and Percy fed Annabeth blueberries while she lay with her head in his lap.

He told her about the time he'd stacked his skateboard on that corner over there, trying to impress a girl he'd had a crush on, laughing loudly as he recounted Sally's mortification upon learning he'd broken his arm in three places.

She told him about the time she'd tried to run away from home when she was 7 and how her mom had found her hiding in a cardboard box in an alley a few blocks over from their house.

"What were you doing in a cardboard box?"

"I needed somewhere to live, didn't I?"

He hummed thoughtfully. "Hey, Annabeth?"

"Mhmm?"

"Do we officially live together now?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

"I think so. I'm paying rent for a place I don't even use for sleeping," Annabeth said, laughing lightly. She'd considered giving up her own apartment, but she knew that she couldn't stay in Percy's if he ever… Well. She just couldn't. So she kept Apartment 6 and lived in Apartment 3. "I guess that means I can't call you hot neighbour anymore."

"What about hot boyfriend?"

"Yeah, hot boyfriend is all right I guess."

"We should move out," he said, and she smiled indulgently. "Into a house you designed, of course."

"Of course," she said seriously.

"What would it be like? If money wasn't an issue, what would our house be like?"

His enthusiasm was catchy. She described a dream home made specifically for the two of them. It had giant windows to show off the ocean views, skylights to ensure as much sun as possible came through and warmed the hardwood floors. A deep spa bath and a shower big enough for two. A huge open plan kitchen and dining room, and a cinema room, where they could host parties with all of their friends. A study and a library. A pool in the backyard. A huge tree in the garden that they could climb.

"And four bedrooms," Annabeth said finally.

Percy squinted down at her. " _Four_ bedrooms?"

"For the kids," she said simply. "You can't expect them to share."

He smiled at her as though she'd just handed him the world on a platter. "That's your dream home?"

" _Our_ dream home," she corrected.

"Our dream home," he repeated.

And for a moment, she could really see it. She could see the two of them moving into their dream home, starting a family, growing old together. She saw sleepless nights caring for crying babies, fighting over bills and money. She saw hot Summer nights spent lazing in the pool, cold Winter days where the whole family played hooky and stayed home to watch corny movies and drink hot chocolate. She saw Sally and Paul holding their grandkids.

Annabeth saw the future she could have had with Percy, and she realised that she'd never wanted anything in her entire life as much as she wanted that.

Which just made it hurt that much more when he didn't come home.

* * *

Annabeth was staring blankly at her work computer, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, when she got the call. It was Paul, and he was crying, because Percy had taken a turn and he was in the hospital and he wouldn't stop asking for her, please could she hurry?

Annabeth was out of the building before she'd even hung up the phone.

The hospital was glaringly white and stunk of antiseptics. Annabeth's skin crawled the moment she walked through the sliding doors, but she pushed forward because Percy was in here somewhere and he needed her. Paul's instructions echoed through her mind as she raced up staircases and down identical corridors.

When she found him, her breath caught in her throat. Percy looked pale and small, swaddled in a hospital gown and with IVs in his arm. But when he saw her he smiled, and for a second she saw the handsome, happy guy she'd met that night outside their apartment building.

She swallowed thickly and made her way to his bedside. He reached for her, grasping her shaking hand in his clammy one as soon as he could.

Sally gave Annabeth a comforting pat on the shoulder as she and Paul wordlessly left the room, and Annabeth was left alone with her dying boyfriend.

Because he really was dying. She couldn't deny it anymore. He stunk of it, he looked like it… Percy was dying, and there was nothing Annabeth could do about it. She started to cry.

"Annabeth," he said, staring up at her. "They won't let me go home. I want to go home."

"You can't come home yet," she said, trying to stop her voice from cracking. "You need to get better before you can come home."

A crease appeared between his eyebrows. "I'm not going to get better, Annabeth. But I want to go home."

"Percy," she said. And that was all she managed before her voice failed her. She crawled up onto the bed with him, put her head on his chest, and let herself cry.

He rubbed slow circles on her back and murmured sweet nothings into her hair. "I'm sorry," he kept saying, over and over. "I'm so sorry."

"Why are you apologising to me?" she croaked. " _You're_ the one who's -"

"Dying," he finished for her. "I'm dying, and that's why I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Annabeth murmured, kissing him softly on the lips. They were chapped, and all she could taste was the salt from their tears, but she was kissing Percy, and that was all that mattered. "I love you, Percy. I love you."

"I love you," he breathed against her lips, running his hands through her hair. "I love you, Annabeth. I love you."

* * *

Annabeth went home alone.

* * *

Mrs O'Leary cried and cried.

Annabeth wished she could explain what had happened to the dog, but she didn't know if it would help. After all, she knew exactly what had happened and she still couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. The sheets still smelled like Percy, and if she lay there long enough there was a chance she'd fall asleep, which meant she wouldn't have to face the reality of him being gone.

She heard dozens of people knock on the door of Apartment 3, but she never got up to answer it. What was she meant to say to Percy's friends? How could she face them when she'd failed him so miserably. She hadn't been able to save him.

Sally still had a key, so she eventually let herself in. The two of them cried together as they packed up Percy's belongings, cramming his entire life into boxes. Annabeth completely broke down when she pulled his skateboard out of the closet, and the only thing that stopped her from throwing it against the wall was the fact that Sally pulled her into a hug so suffocating her arms were pinned to her sides.

Paul came to help. Grover and Charles, Hazel and Frank, too. The Stoll brothers, as well, and friends of Percy that Annabeth had met at parties, acquaintances who were eager to do something to help. They all looked at Annabeth with such pity that it made her want to scream. She bit her tongue and accepted their help, and she let Hazel hold her while she cried into one of Percy's t-shirts.

They carted boxes over to Apartment 6, figuring it was better to just empty the place out now and properly go through everything later, when they had clearer heads.

The funeral passed in a blur. Annabeth spoke, but she couldn't recall what she'd said. She thought she'd said something about how they'd planned to build a future together, but she couldn't be sure. She just remembered standing up there, looking out at all those different people mourning for Percy, and trying to comprehend that they were sharing in her pain. It didn't make her feel any better.

Grieving didn't get any easier. Annabeth felt like she was in a constant fog. Mrs O'Leary moved into her apartment (even Mr D wasn't heartless enough to make her give up the dog) and if Annabeth hadn't had to look after her she would have let herself whither away to nothing.

The days bled together and suddenly a month had passed and a new couple were moving into Apartment 3. Annabeth only knew this because a notice had been slid under her door sometime before the fact, and she'd torn it into tiny little pieces and thrown it out the window.

The new tenants woke her up as they lugged boxes in from the elevator, laughing and chatting. She hadn't heard anyone laugh in a long time. A strange desperation gripped her, and Annabeth hauled herself out of bed. She pulled on one of Percy's t-shirts and a pair of shorts and went to meet her new neighbours.

They noticed Annabeth almost immediately, because as soon as Mrs O'Leary saw the door to Apartment 3 was open she made a run for it. Annabeth sprinted after her, moving faster than she had in weeks, and managed to grab her collar just as they reached the doorway.

The couple stared at her.

"Sorry," she said, voice croaking from disuse. "She used to live here. She still hasn't quite accepted Apartment 6 as home."

"I thought this was a pet-free building," the guy said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Annabeth shrugged helplessly and struggled to hold Mrs O'Leary back.

The girl shifted the box she was cradling. "Is she… friendly?"

"Oh yeah, Mrs O'Leary is a total softie. Takes after her owner," Annabeth said. At their strange looks, she quickly amended, "Not me. I mean her… other owner."

"Who used to live here?" the guy asked.

Annabeth glanced inside. Her heart clenched to see Percy's old apartment being filled with other people's stuff. They'd put the table the wrong way, and their couch was too big for the small lounge.

"Yeah," she managed to say, blinking rapidly to try and stop her tears from falling. "Yeah, this was our home."

The couple shared a look. They had a silent conversation, and then the girl turned to Annabeth with a smile. The guy looked so awkward Annabeth almost laughed.

"Would you like to come inside?" the girl asked, voice soft.

"Oh, no, I couldn't -" Annabeth began to protest.

She was interrupted by a high pitched whine from Mrs O'Leary.

The girl raised one eyebrow. "Are you sure? She seems pretty eager to get inside."

Annabeth deflated. "Uh. Well, I mean, I don't want to inconvenience you…"

As the words left her mouth, she flashed back to when Percy had said the exact same thing, just a few steps and an entire world away. She stared down the hall to the spot where she'd found him asleep, the morning after he'd found out his cancer was back. She wondered how different things would be if she'd just left him there and gone for her run. She decided she didn't want to know.

"Yeah, actually, if you're sure you don't mind, that might be nice," she said.

The girl nodded and gestured for her to go ahead. Annabeth finally let Mrs O'Leary go and she bounded in, sniffing everything and barking at the lamp in the corner of the lounge.

Annabeth followed the couple inside, unabashedly staring at the furnishings they'd already managed to unpack - and the stacks of cardboard boxes scattered all over the place.

"I'm Annabeth, by the way," she said as she shut the door behind herself.

"I'm Piper, and this is Jason," the girl replied, leading the way into the kitchen. "Coffee?"

Annabeth smiled at her new neighbours. "Please."

* * *

Jason sparked an electrical fire when he plugged the microwave in that night.

Annabeth laughed so loud she almost drowned out the fire alarm, and as she stood out on the street staring up at her building, she swore she could almost hear Percy there laughing with her.

"What a nuisance, hey?"


	2. Chapter 2

Annabeth sat in Percy's old apartment and watched Jason and Piper interact; it was just innocent touches, Jason's hand brushing Piper's shoulder as he walked past, Piper leaning into Jason when he sat next to her, them smiling at each other like the rest of the world didn't exist. It was all innocent and they didn't mean to hurt her, obviously, but all of a sudden this wave of anger hit Annabeth and she had to excuse herself. Because it _wasn't fair._ That should have been her and Percy looking at each other like that, it should have been the two of them sitting on his little couch with their legs intertwined, it should have been _them_ in _their_ home but it was Piper and Jason instead and she'd never say anything but she couldn't help but hate them a little bit for that.

She came up with excuses to avoid the next three get togethers they hosted.

When she finally went back to Apartment 3 the anger was still simmering, but she braced herself on the frame of the kitchen door when no one else was around, counted to 10, and told herself to be brave.

She steadfastly avoided going anywhere near the bedroom. That was a hurt she was not ready to face.

* * *

Annabeth tried to invite Hazel and Frank over four times before she gathered enough courage to go through with making the call. When they arrived they sat in awkward silence for ten minutes before Frank finally said, "I really thought he was going to beat it, you know."

There were a lot of tears, but there was also a lot of laughter as they swapped memories about Percy. Annabeth thought it was hysterical when they told her how intimidating they found her that first night.

They told her how flustered Percy had been when she'd stomped off. They said he'd kept talking about her the whole way back up the apartment, saying she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen and how he never had a chance with her because she'd just think of him as her stupid, annoying neighbour who set of the fire alarm by blowing up his microwave and tried to use his shirt to put out the flames. She laughed through her tears, because he'd been right. For a while, anyway.

* * *

Annabeth changed the route of the walk she went on with Mrs O'Leary. It was longer, and it didn't go past the park down the road, because every time she saw that place she imagined a little Percy skateboarding by, or grown up Percy lying on a picnic rug with her and talking about their dream home. Both hurt.

She couldn't eat blueberries anymore, either. Just the sight of them made her nauseous.

* * *

Sally and Paul invited her over for dinner. She held herself together through the main course, but as soon as Sally brought out a plate of blue cookies for dessert, Annabeth burst into tears. She tried to explain how Percy had baked them for her when she had a bad day at work, but she was crying so hard the words were pretty much incomprehensible. Sally just folded her into a hug and held her until she calmed down. The hug was still the most comforting touch she'd had since Percy had gone, but it was different to before. Both of them felt harder, sharper, rougher around the edges.

Annabeth slept in Percy's childhood bed that night. The sheets didn't smell like him - they smelled like laundry detergent. But she remembered how he'd pulled her down on top of him when they'd visited one time, how she'd shrieked and tried to escape his clutches as he'd tickled her. How he'd flipped her over and kissed up and down her neck, how she'd sunk into the soft single mattress as he'd held himself above her. And how loud she'd yelled when he'd pushed her off the bed and onto the floor. He'd hung his head over the side of the bed and flashed his crooked, troublemaker smile, and she'd been too exasperated to do anything but roll her eyes at him.

She didn't remember crying, but when she woke up the pillow was wet with her tears.

* * *

Annabeth couldn't bring herself to go through the boxes of his stuff. She moved them around, put them into piles and tucked them away into cupboards and under her bed. But she couldn't open them. Every time she tried it felt like she was ripping open her own chest and poking at a raw wound, so she gave up.

* * *

Her boss's sympathy eventually ran out and she had to go back to work. She hated it, at first. Hated struggling through the nausea of getting up every morning, leaving Mrs O'Leary alone in the flat and trudging to work. But soon she found her rhythm, and soon she was glad to have something to fill her days. Throwing herself into a new project was a pleasant distraction from the gaping emptiness of the rest of her life. Sally had been right to tell her to keep the job.

In her breaks she worked on a separate project, something just for her. It took a long time, because she couldn't work on it as much as she wanted to, and also because she was a perfectionist and it had to be without fault. She felt like this was the most important thing she was ever going to design in her life, so she poured everything she had into it.

* * *

A year after Percy's passing, she finally went back to the park. Mrs O'Leary sat beside her in the long green grass, and Annabeth unfolded the picnic rug and perched herself in the middle of it. She smiled to herself and unrolled the blueprints in her hand.

"I did it, Percy," she said quietly. "I designed our dream home."

There was no answer, but she swore the breeze got a little warmer and the sun shone a little brighter. Annabeth felt like she was finally starting to heal.


End file.
